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‘Good morning’ the big toothbrush greets the little toothbrush.
There is no sign of there being an answer or even a glance.
‘Whats wrong with you ?’

“I’m ill” says little toothbrush, “too many foreign objects in my yellow hairs. evil saliva of a person got stuck last night. my owner is drunk again”

Big tooth brush approaches with pity : ‘In fact I also dont feel well. My owner didn’t use me  last night, but when he was in front of me washing a whorl of brown hair roots growing on the crown of his head, my eyes were glued to the red scratch around his face, neck and chest. He tossed around all night gasing at the mirror all the time-smiling and rolling his eyes, it can be assured that he is almost crazy’.

“That matter-you’ve often spoke of it to me. Your owner is not crazy, there is a spark of love trying to orbit the wrong planet.  Imagine, what would happen if my owner knew what lay beneath your owner’s pockets. There would be  furious hair pulling flinging here slinging there stabbing here. After which, your owner would become gossip for my owner’s friends”.

‘How would you know ?’ responds the big toothbrush.’ you’re perched here all day-how would you know your owner’s boasting ?’

“What I uttered before is almost definite analysis. My owner often talks to me when she has finished with all her insults and abuse. Satisfying her hunger seeing your owner’s newly wounded heart” the little toothbrush’s breath begins to clear the fog on the bathroom mirror. Its handle becomes drowsy.

‘No use, no use’ says big toothbrush disparaging., ‘ never another new wound because his peck has long rotten and the rot has long stuck out. As a result, it is those  distractions with a self-set-price that he chases almost every second. There is a third woman between them. This is secret’ the big toothbrush recoils its blue hairs.
(little toothbrush is prepared)

“After what you’ve pronounced-what do secret mean? who’s keeping secrets from who ? my owner also has two men. they meet at the cafeteria in the heart of the city. Problem is, I smell double –dalliance. This is a dangerous startegy”


‘You’re right. this irony is leading to a point of chaos. we must run before flames start leaping’, says big toothbrush. ‘ before my owner and your owner purge the flicker of their hearts and begin pulling hairs’

“ But i’m afraid” whispers little toothbrush, “ and I’m also sick. why is there another man’s saliva in my yellow hairs. I’m embarrassed”

‘I’m also tired. There’s no other way but to run looking for other heads that perhaps contain consciousness. Listen, I say CONSCIOUSNESS – not a shaped object but function’

Big toothbrush ushers his friend down from the bathroom running
for the fence of the wide courtyard that is bigger than 1 hectare.
An hour later the explosion of a derringer is followed by the shriek of an AK-47 and sirens sing accompanying the toothbrush owners to the emergency ward.

(Two toothbrushes spy from
the road median
under the queen –of-the-night)

In total there are four deadbeat generals-
their bodies shriveled smelling of soot
whilst waltzing towards the purple moon
here's a bowl of lavender tea
swallow it up, tactfully
mulberry chill. Voila  !
afternoon revealed
Honeymoon concealed
Revisited Merak harbor one late evening
a shape of sea fairy and colorful torches
were seen from afar , chattering calls  in 4 languages. 4 squalls in  once was a plage
their dancing  flames asked me to come closer

I hurried along the sleepy shipyards
passing massive warehouses fenced by rusty wooden doors
giant padlocks accenting  (reminded me of a  fancy cocotte loaded with blingbling)
stacks of oversized containers  solidly sat speechless.  Sleepless.

The light of each torch lifted into the sky. Seen by another eye
1883 eruption of the Krakatau crater.  130 years later the odor of its curators  
I ran closer. I fell.  I laid there a while , got up and ran again.
I lost my head and missed my right foot along the way.  I did not care.

When I arrived  the torches were there in front of me
reincarnated  into thousands inhabitants who had lost their lives
bodies covered with revolting cesspit oil  
For a second  they transformed into torches again.  One blazing in my hands.
Regretfully, I had lost my head so I did not understand.

The fairy stared . I wasn't scared.

:  come, come, …come purifying Sunda strait
dissatisfying the idiots thought it could all be fixed with tax rate
I moved toward  embracing fairy arms  
(Possibly, this close hugging love was only for beach-sea friends)

So, I united with the torches
A bit of a breach  pushed us towards the petroleum . Demolished it all.  Cannonball.
Black fog shrieking that same  words : Keep up the struggle .  Stay strong !
The alien residents might think I was making choices
but the fairy was leading me around
the torches reshaping the ghost-town

Chattering calls  in 4 voices.   4 languages.
Yet, for the officials ears , all were still voiceless.  Pointless.  



(Pulo Merak - Cilegon - Indonesia )

— The End —